The Abuser Is Not Always The Person You Presume
by TheGirlWithAStory
Summary: The abuser is not always the person you presume, the victim is not always the person you assume. /Brittana, hurt, abuse, physical abuse, oneshot/ Don't read if you don't like, possible trigger!


She was meant to be the nice one….  
The bubbly one…  
The one who couldn't do anything wrong… The one who always fascinated over baby animals… 

But she was actually the one screaming horrible words down on her girlfriend who lays sobbing and bruised on the floor.  
She was actually the one slapping her girlfriend across the face and punching her in the legs and stomach as she struggled to breath.  
She was actually the one who when everyone thought she whispered kind, loving words into her girlfriends ear during their class when she was actually threatening her of what she would do if her girlfriend told.

It was the usual Saturday morning, Santana got up out of bed slowly not wanting to work her bruised muscles to much or wake up her sleeping, abusive girlfriend. She got into the shower downstairs instead of the one in her bedroom, hoping not to wake Brittany, her parents or her precious baby sister, Cara-Leigh. After her shower she got dressed immediately not wanting Brittany to touch her in anyway in case she had woken up while she was showering.

Santana walked out of the shower, her naturally curly hair hanging down wet against her grey t-shirt causing small moisture spot to create, it was just hitting 9am and she was grateful they didn't have cheerio's practice or school today, she wasn't sure if she would be able to hide in the small outfit the bruises that had formed from a couple night's back attack after she had left her bag at the door of her bedroom, causing Brittany to trip over to it.

(Santana's POV)  
I walked through the house barely making a sound, how could she do this? I can hardly breathe again, ever since two months when Brittany's little brother Cole and cat Lord Tubbington had died after drowning in a pool Brittany had changed, but only towards me. I don't understand, I know she's hurting but I thought she loved me? You don't do this to somebody you love...

I walk into the kitchen and grab a banana, eating it as quick as I can because I faintly hear the familiar cry of my 3week old sister, I quickly jog up the stairs not wanting her to wake up my parents and especially not Brittany, because my mother has bad cancer and needs to stay at the hospital a lot and father works or is with my mamma and I have Cara from 4am-8am when I drop her at the school day-care and then from 2:30pm till 10pm it's as if she is my own daughter, it feels that way anyway but I wouldn't change it for the world. She's my angel, my princess, my baby. My mother said that in her will she has marked me as her guardian and not my father because she knows he'll need my help.

I get to her room that's marked C*L*A*L (Cara-Leigh Amelie Lopez) and enter, I grin widely as I pick her up from her crib and lay her over my chest softly, patting her back gently as I take her over to the change table and change her diaper before dressing her in a cute 'If you think I'm cute you should see my sister' onesie before giving her a bottle and laying her back down to sleep. "Santana!" I cringe inside as I hear Brittany scream my name, I look over my shoulder and am grateful to see that Cara is still sleeping, I walk into the bedroom slowly seeing Brittany standing beside the bed in her day clothes, 'she must have had a shower' I think to myself as I try to smile but I'm trembling. "Y-yes?" I answer with the obvious waver of my voice, I can already feel the punches that are coming even though I've closed the door and I'm across the other side of the room.

"I almost tripped over your bag AGAIN!" Brittany said, her face changing from sweet Brittany to harsh Brittany in a matter of seconds. She storms over to me and I could feel the anger already before she had touched me, I drop instantly as I feel the pain wash over my entire body, she hasn't even touched me but I'm left crying on the floor before it turns into me completely sobbing as she stares down at me, I look up at her, feeling completely broken and for the first time since this started besides the first time she hit me that I have seen on her face is…..remorse and regret. I let the tears fall down my face as I stare up at her, she moves down to help me up but I cry out and scoot away from her gripping my stomach at the same time. I almost feel sorry for her as I watch a tear slip down her cheek. How could she do this? She was supposed to be the sweet one...

(Brittany's POV)  
I awoke still slightly angry from last night, I was happy I had been able to control my anger but it annoyed me that she hadn't apologised because of it, I stand up out of bed and feel a cold wetness against my foot, I look down at the floor, my anger instantly goes away, it's blood.. Only a little but It's not my own and I suddenly remember what had happened the nights before, I had used Santana as a punching bag and the blood was still wet, I felt the need to cry, I quickly went into the bathroom and shed myself of my clothing as I got into the shower. I scrubbed my skin and washed myself before getting out just to hear Cara crying, I walked out of the bathroom and got dressed into leggings and a shirt. I began walking over to the door getting ready to apologise to Santana when I AGAIN tripped over her bag. "Santana!" The words came out before I could even register them, I felt the familiar anger rise as a tiny pang of pain hit my ankle. I watched her slip through the crack in the door like a snake and stand on the other side of the room as if she was…. Afraid….. Of me…. "Yes?.." Her voice so scared, weak and vulnerable, it use to be so confident, bitchy and….happy. "I almost tripped over you bag AGAIN!" I reply, with accidental harshness as I walk over to her quickly and she drops, I haven't even touched her and she has dropped to the floor sobbing. My heart breaks and I feel a tear slide down my cheek as I look at my beautiful girlfriend who use to be so full of life and life, lay on the floor pale, weak and bruised. As she scoots away from me I collapse beside her and begin bawling, apologises pouring from my mouth. "I'm so sorry Santana! Baby I'm so sorry! I should never have hurt you! I need help! I'm Sorry!" The words come out in a big blubber as I cry, I notice that Santana has stopped crying and her arms are around me. Cradling me. I had been hitting her, abusing her for months and she was holding me. I didn't deserve her, I didn't deserve this. "I'm so…rrrry." I mumble out, snot and tears fussing together and my worlds becoming laced with sadness.

(Santana POV)  
I look up seeing Brittany fall down and begin sobbing harshly beside me, I stopped crying myself as I heard Brittany's apologises spill from her throat and I can tell she is being sincere, that she actually is sorry that she actually wants help. I sit up, taking her in my arms and holding her tight as we crying together. "It's okay Britt, you were hurting... I understand, but please don't hurt me." I speak softly, still a little unsure. I feel her nod against my chest, agreeing and I feel a wave of relief wave over me for the first time in the whole two months. I get up slowly, grabbing her hand and pulling her up with a smile as she kisses me gently, I kiss her back gently putting all my love into it. "I love you so much Britt, but I think you need counselling. I'll be here every step of the way." I smile as Brittany smiles and agrees to go to counselling. "Alright, let's go dress our baby then go to breadstix for brunch."

(EVERYONE POV)  
Not even two months after Brittany had gotten counselling Santana's mother died of cancer, leaning Cara in Santana's care. Brittany hadn't hit Santana or felt the need to since the day she admitted she needed help and was now in counselling once a week while helping Santana take care of 'their' daughter.

/Hope you like this one shot! If you want a continue on REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW, if you think it should stay a oneshot….also review. Send me some prompts, things you want to happen.  
Criticism is welcome! Thanks! –Kayla.


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